


Falling into You

by synchronysymphony



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Valentine’s Day, ambience piece, phone fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 13:19:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13682496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synchronysymphony/pseuds/synchronysymphony
Summary: Andrew isn’t sure what to do with all these feelings.





	Falling into You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmilyScarlett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyScarlett/gifts).



> For my lovely Emily!! Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear! ❤️

Andrew hates Valentines Day. It’s everything that gets on his nerves; cheesy, saccharine, mass-produced— and worst of all, it romanticizes _romance_. There’s no way he could like it by any standards.

He usually does his best to ignore it when it comes around, but this year, it’s going to be unavoidable. Allison, who’s just broken up with Seth, is about to ask Renee out, and everyone knows it, including Renee, so there’s no way Andrew can talk to her about it, or vent his feelings in any way. And sure, he could talk to Nicky, or Kevin, maybe, but they’re so excited for Renee and Allison, and they don’t really understand his hatred for the holiday anyway.

And yeah, there’s someone else, but he’s the root of a lot of Andrew’s problems this year. Andrew’s trying not to think about that. He and Neil are makeout buddies, that’s all. There’s no _feelings_ or anything going on there.

 _But_ , whispers a traitorous part of his brain, _wouldn’t you like it if there were_?

Andrew shakes his head. He can’t deal with feelings. He’s barely managing kissing.

He still has to get through the rest of today, though, and he’s not sure how he’s going to do it. He has to continue to avoid Neil, that’s for sure, and probably the rest of their friends, too, for good measure. He’s definitely not going to practice tonight. It’s not like he’s jealous of Allison and Renee, but seeing them together (because it’s a given that they’re going to be together by tonight) is uncomfortable for some reason. Maybe it’s because he’s still not sure if Allison is the right one for Renee. That must be it. It’s definitely not because they make him feel guilty for not confessing his feelings to Neil.

Wait. What feelings? Andrew starts to pace back and forth across the rooftop, forgotten cigarette dangling from his fingers. He hadn’t meant to think that to himself; he’s been firmly denying any and all feelings that he might have for Neil, because feelings mean emotional intimacy, and that means trust, and trust is something that’s never been a constant in Andrew’s life. He doesn’t consider himself to be afraid of much (except heights, maybe, and something happening to Kevin or the rest of his friends), but feelings? Those scare him.

He tosses his cigarette off the roof and watches as it flutters to the earth, a tiny pinprick of orange light surrounded by ash, and the dusky haze of late afternoon. If only he could get rid of his feelings so easily, he thinks. Just toss them away, stupid unwanted things, and be free to live his boring life, unencumbered by the indecency of human emotion.

He can’t, though, and part of him, that sneaky, disobedient part of his brain, doesn’t even want to. Because if he gives up feelings, then he gives up—

“Andrew?”

Andrew turns around, vainly pretending that his heart hadn’t just thumped in a beat of excitement. “Neil.”

“Where’ve you been all day, man? I haven’t seen you anywhere.”

“I’ve been up here, mostly. Thinking.”

“And apparently, drinking.” Neil points to the half-empty bottle of whiskey at Andrew’s feet. “How’re you feeling there, champ?”

How is he _feeling_. That’s the problem.

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because you look upset.”

Andrew sinks down, feeling suddenly too heavy to continue standing. He sticks his legs out in front of him and leans back on his hands, affecting a posture of casualness. He wishes he hadn’t thrown his cigarette away. That would have been a nice touch.

“I’m just melancholy. You know me.”

“Right.” There’s a second of silence, and then Neil settles down beside him. He picks up the bottle of whiskey and takes a long pull. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

He does, though. So badly.

“Okay, sure. Then, let me ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“You think I should dye my hair?”

The question is so absurd that Andrew can’t help but laugh. “What the hell, man? Where’d that come from?”

“I dunno. I been thinking about it.” Neil this absently at a lock of hair. “I think it could be a cool change.”

“I like your hair.” That came out a little sappy. Andrew clears his throat. “I mean, I’ve gotten used to it like that.”

“But change can be good,” argues Neil. “You get used to things one way, but you’ll never know how good they can be another way if you don’t try.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

Neil leans back on his hands, mirroring Andrew. He tilts his head up and looks at the sky.

“You know,” he says, after a few minutes. “I like your hair, too.”

“What?”

“It’s cool. Especially right now. Sorta lights up the twilight.”

“The hell, you a poet now?”

Neil shoves him. “Shut up. Just take the damn compliment.”

Andrew can’t hold back a little smile, so he turns away to get another cigarette out of his pocket. He lights it, knowing Neil is watching him.

“You want one?”

“Wouldn’t say no.”

“Here.”

Andrew hands him the already-lit cigarette, being very careful not to let their hands brush. He doesn’t need that kind of tension right now. He digs through his pocket for another one, and holds it up.

“Give me a light?”

Neil doesn’t take his cigarette out of his mouth. Instead, he leans forward and touches the end to Andrew’s, almost like he’s bestowing a kiss. Andrew watches the tiny flame catch and glow, feeling dizzy in a way he knows has nothing to do with the whiskey.

“Thanks,” he says, but his voice comes out gruff. Neil just nods and retreats to his own space.

“Anytime.”

They laps into silence again, watching the sky’s fuzzy blue turn red and gold and then deepen to a calmer purple. Andrew almost doesn’t want to speak and break the dreaminess of the moment, but something tickles the back of his mind, and he sits up straight.

“Shit. Isn’t practice starting?”

“Yeah, should be.” Neil takes a lazy drag of his cigarette. “You wanna go?”

“Hell no. But you—“

“I’d rather be here.”

Andrew feels like he’s been hit in the chest with a brick. Neil is skipping Exy, apparently just to spend time with him. _Neil_ is skipping _Exy_.

“You feeling all right?” he manages.

Neil shoots him a crooked grin. “Never better.”

Andrew has no idea what to say to that. It’s strange, being left without his words, but he feels softer than he usually does, as if his edges have been sanded down and worn away, smoothed by the soft night, and the chemicals, and...

And Neil. He has to admit it to himself, now. He’s lied to himself long enough, and he doesn’t want to anymore. Maybe he’ll regret this tomorrow, or in a few minutes, even, but something is tugging him, pulling him near the edge of the metaphorical rooftop, and he’s terrified of falling, but at the same time, he’s never felt more alive.

“Hey,” he says. Neil turns towards him.

“Yeah?”

“Did you mean that about change being good?”

“Yeah,” says Neil carefully. “Why?”

“Because... I think I need a little change.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to deny it, because I’m honest-to-God terrified, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t...”

“Yeah.”

Neil isn’t being terribly helpful here. Andrew decides to go for broke. He takes a deep breath, and jumps off the ledge. “I love you.”

Neil doesn’t say anything. Andrew is contemplating jumping over the literal edge of the roof just to get away from yet another fucked-up situation of his own making, but finally, Neil looks at him, and his eyes are glowing, like a cigarette tip in the dark.

“You mean that?”

Andrew feels like he’s swallowed a bag full of rocks. “Yeah,” he rasps.

“Good.”

And with this, Neil takes his face between his two hands and kisses him.

It’s far from their first kiss. He and Neil have been making out on the sly for months. But somehow, something feels brand new here, like the change they’ve both decided to embrace is moving them into a new version of reality. Andrew closes his eyes and kisses back, lost, until finally Neil pulls away and rests their foreheads together.

“I love you too, you idiot.”

Andrew can’t stop a smile from stretching over his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And with that, they’re kissing again. Andrew lifts his hand to thread through Neil’s hair, finally coming to rest at the nape of his neck, and Neil cups Andrew’s chin oh-so-gently.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve loved you for awhile, you know.”

Andrew realizes that he does know. Neil has a good way of showing it, even past his rough-and-tumble exterior. And, though it’s a little harder to admit, Andrew feels the same.

“You’ve always been there,” he says, which is as intimate a confession as Neil is going to get. Neil’s mouth curves up.

“That’s _special_.”

“Shut up.”

Neil kisses him again. Andrew thinks dizzily that he’ll never forget this moment, not as long as he lives. He’s not falling from the rooftop anymore; he’s flying, soaring, and it’s everything he’d ever wanted, and more. He lets himself go, melting into Neil and his kisses, and time seems to stop, until finally he knows that if they don’t stop now, things are going to get a bit more steamy than he’s ready for. So he pulls away, and rests his head on Neil’s shoulder.

“Can we stay like this for awhile?”

Neil kisses his forehead. “Anything you want.”

“This is all I could want.”

Andrew knows it’s sappy, but he can’t bring himself to mind. It’s true, after all. He wraps an arm around Neil’s waist and leans in close, watching the stars appear one by one in the sky.

So, maybe Valentines Day isn’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never read this book, please don’t roast me ;m;


End file.
